Quotes About Tree

I think we need some new Christmas carols with a more modern approach. Of course, I wouldn't abandon the religious theme completely. How about "Holy Christ, the Christmas Tree's on Fire"? Or "Jesus, can you Believe It's Christmas Again?" This ought to get the ball rolling; I'm hoping you people will take it from here.

I wonder if anyone else has an ear so tuned and sharpened as I have, to detect the music, not of the spheres, but of earth, subtleties of major and minor chord that the wind strikes upon the tree branches. Have you ever heard the earth breathe?

I can explain to you in detail just how a tree can be made into paper. But I've always wondered - and hoped - that someday, someone would help me discover how paper can be made back into a tree.

The seeds of a redwood are released from cones that are about the size of olives. The heartwood of the tree is a dark, shimmery red in color, like old claret. The wood has a lemony scent and is extremely resistant to rot.

The wood of any tree growing anywhere records fairly faithfully the oxygen and hydrogen chemistry of the water the plant has access to through precipitation.

Whether you are aware of it or not, one half of your pulmonary system is hanging up there right now on a tree!

Being a tree, affirmation would feel different. Love would feel different. We would be happiest if our soil was full of microbes chatting. We would be happiest if the soil was rich enough to contain a complex fungal network that would allow us to sort of blur into it and talk to or just sort of be each other.

I can hear the bunny all the time now. Even when I'm outside, under my tree. I'm mad at the bunny for being sick and bothering me. For being...alive.

Friendship is like a sheltering tree.

Everything has a spirit: the willow tree with leaves that kiss the pond, the stream that feeds the river, the wind that exhales fresh snow . . .And those spirits want to kill you. It's the first lesson that every Renthian learns.

Devant une certaine fenêtre du premier étage, dit-il, il y a un hêtre qui est parmi les plus beaux arbres du parc. — Ma chambre. C'est une grande chambre. Sa bouche à lui fut humide d'avoir bu et elle eut à son tour, dans la douce lumière, une implacable précision. — Une chambre calme, dit-on, la meilleure.

The night was windy, full of tree sounds. The moon was gone and there was rain, so fine that it was only a tingle on the skin.

She was lost now, she'd been silenced- another dead branch on Cordova's warped tree.

Like a tree, the Bible tells us, bitterness has roots.a Consequently, we can saw away at our frustrations, disappointments, angers, hurts, and sadness, but unless we dig up our root of bitterness, it only returns, sometimes bigger than ever.

Blessed tree and blessed birds, that were to be neither saved nor damned.

His skin is so hard and rough, it's like shaking a piece of tree bark.

No matter how many leaves would the tree of your soul have in front of the intense heat in the words of Time in this world, they can never shade the eternity lost inside you.

A whipper-snapper of criticism who quoted dead languages to hide his ignorance of life.

If the clouds be full of rain, they empty themselves upon the earth: and if the tree falls toward the south, or toward the north, in the place where the tree falls, there it shall be.

In all animals, egoism is in a seed-form. It bears effect as a tree in the human life form! If the egoism is destroyed, 'one' becomes the 'Absolute Supreme Self'[parmatma]!

I know that I hung on the windy tree Nine full nights, Pierced by a spear offered to Odin Myself to myself of which none knows Upon that tree Where its roots run...

And on the Tree of Life,The middle tree and highest there that grew,Sat like a cormorant.

But we are supposed to have our roots planted somewhere other than circumstance. The roots of our lives are supposed to be drawing up the nutriments of joy from a source that cannot be depleted—the river of God and his Word. The one who delights in the Lord is "like a tree planted by streams of water.

After scavenging some rancid bait that had been sealed inside a plastic jar, the tiger hauled Tsepalev's mattress out of the shelter and dragged it fifty yards across the frozen Takhalo. There, on the opposite bank, he spread the mattress out under a commanding spruce tree, lay down on it in plain view, and waited.